


How to Split a Coconut

by Arithanas



Category: I pirati della Malesia | The Pirates of Malaysia - Emilio Salgari
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Het Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gomeran Whistle, Honeymoon, Male Friendship, Marianna is not a damsel in distress, Missing Scene, Other, Sea Battle, Silbo gomero, for those who have forgotten Marianna is an army brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7021216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a successful escape from the English Army the Tigers of Mompracem made a run for Java. </p><p>Yanez de Gomera and Sandokan try to settle new rules for their friendship and Sandokan and Mariana make the best of their hurried honeymoon. </p><p>The problem? The Dutch Navy was even less amenable than the English one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Split a Coconut

They had set their bow to Java and wind was clement with them. They have kept a steady speed of thirteen knots, which was pretty impressive for heavy loaded prahu.

Yanez, covering the last of the Malaysian sun with the wide brim of his hat. It was better to be on guard if they were to escape to Java with the niece of Lord Guillonk on board. He has been sleeping over the deck, in a hammock fixed between the boom crutch and the mizzen mast.  

That wasn’t the most comfortable room in the ship, but the option was pretty embarrassing. Sandokan spent every minute available by the side of Marianna Guillonk. Yanez’s presence would surely put a damper on —if the sounds the crew reported to hear were true—the amusing romps they were enjoying in the same cabin that Yanez and Sandokan used to share.

There was no bitterness in the mind of Yanez.

If anything, he was happy for his Little Brother, but he missed a good night sleep. It was a shame he couldn’t get below decks with a ship hold filled with treasure and half a hundred of bloodthirsty pirates. He wouldn’t mind if Sandokan could tear himself apart his chosen lady to take a guard at the helm. Lovers are such single-minded creatures…

“This is how you stand guard?” Sandokan’s amused voice scolded.

Yanez groaned because the hammock started to swing. “There are dozens of sharps eyes in this prahu, you can’t blame me for stealing a nap, Little Brother.”

The hammock stopped swinging. The weight of another body pulled it down. Yanez tilted his hat and watched at Sandokan. There was a smile in his often stern face.

“Please, have mercy on my ears and spare me the many virtues of your lady!” Yanez reached for the silver box case, in a sudden need for a cigarette. “I’m convinced Marianna deserves all praise.”

“Some things never change.”

“Others change without warning,” Yanez lit his cigarette. “I have heard they called that ‘living’, but I’m not sure if I can ratify it.”

“What’s going to be with you tomorrow, Yanez?”

“I’ll keep living,” Yanez said and took a long puff.

His plans once were to die in the deck of an English ship but, since they were quitting piracy, he had no other plan. For the meantime, Yanez dreaded to think of the future. They were approaching Java and the thought will be unavoidable in no time.

“Marianna and I have been talking about a plantation. in Batavia,” Sandokan said, averting his eyes. “A quiet place.”

Yanez said nothing. He just took another drag. Sandokan would have to speak if he planned to tell his friend of his plans.

“Say something!” Sandokan finally lost his patience when Yanez lit up another cigarette.

“I bet the place will not be quiet for long,” Yanez abide by his friend’s request with congeniality. “Little feet will make the place very noisy soon.”

“Come with me,” Sandokan finally voiced, before amending his statement: “with us.”

“You know I’m very complacent with your whims, Little Brother, but I refuse to play the role of a wet blanket.”

“We have enough resources to buy a wide tract of land.”

“You also have enough love to choke an elephant.”

Sandokan looked vexed at that accusation. They looked at each other for a long, awkward moment.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Sandokan said with a sad smile.

“What brings this on now?” Yanez put the brim of his hat over his eyes again.

Love had softened Sandokan’s brain. If Yanez were an impressionable man, he would weep for the late Tiger of the Malaysia.

It was his good fortune that he was not.

***

Marianna rolled the sleeves of the oversized shirt she was wearing, trying to stifle her exasperation.

Besides the bed and the bags of coins and jewels, gunpowder, knives, and balls, that cabin had four different trunks that didn't close where pieces of cloth hanging out. Lots of rolls of exquisite silk, piles of shirts and unmentionables, several dozens of trousers, at least thirty of Sandokan’s oversized sashes… Everything she could think of and nothing that could fit her short frame. If her dress were not in such a bad repair...

Marianna wanted to think she was a good-natured woman with a balanced mind but felt there was a fight brewing in her spirit. She could concede that her rescue had been quite improvised. Still, Sandokan and his friend should have had thought of something to shelter her from the elements.

The soft knock on the doorjamb made her turn her eyes from the mess. Yanez was there with a smirk on his face.

“What can I do for you?” Marianna didn’t like the sneer.

That Portuguese raised his eyebrow and whistled. That was a strangely well-modulated sound.

“Milady, I would ask you to hand my shirt over, but that would be both improper and a shame,” Yanez replied, letting himself in the cabin. “I bet that shirt never looked so good on my back.”

Marianna clutched the neck of the shirt. She had thought the shirt was Sandokan’s. The fact it was Yanez’s only summed up to her vexation.

“Forgive me if I’m disturbing you, but the gale…”

Yanez made a vague gesture in front of his chest. Without providing another explanation, he passed behind the Chinese screen. He hung his hat with the familiarity of someone used to those surroundings. The parang followed the wet vest and the wet shirt. It was clear that all he wanted was a dry shirt.

“Yanez de Gomera,” Marianna called, pretending that she was folding some clothes. “If I ask you a question, will a get an honest answer from you?”

“As far as possible,” he replied without turning his back. He was taking his time behind the screen. Marianna reckoned that he was soaked up to his undergarments.

“I had heard the soldiers before. Not officers, but lowly recruits.” She could hardly believe she had the guts to make the outrageous question. “I wanted to know if what I had heard was a slander or a true fact…”

“If I know how strong Sandokan’s arms can hug and how heavy he’s when he lay it down?” Yanez asked with an ironic smile on his lips. His naked folded arms were on the top of the screen. There little scars on those forearms. Marianna was impressed.

“Basically, yes,” Marianna admitted, feeling how the blush rose to her face.

“Very naughty of you, milady,” He scolded and made no attempt to return to his change of clothes. “Must I assume you haven’t asked Sandokan himself?”

Marianna coughed to hide her discomfort, “I haven’t found a favorable time and please call me Marianna.”

“Find the time, Marianna,” Yanez advised and turned around to put his clothes on. “This could be slander. This could be real. It all boils down to what you are meaning when you ask. In any case, it’s my humble opinion that the issue only matters to Sandokan and me.” There was a pause, a long one as Yanez put a dirty shirt —yellow at the cuff and collar— over his back. Marianna wondered if those two men had ever done laundry. “For what it's worth, you have my word: Sandokan will never be disloyal to you. I know his character enough to put my hand in the fire on his behalf.”

Those words were reassuring; Marianna didn’t care to admit it. Her hands toyed with the many discarded clothes.

“Now, if you don’t mind a question on my part…” Yanez came out from behind the screen, adjusting the shoulder strap. “What are you doing in that pile of fabric? I haven't pegged you as a frivolous woman.”

“Right now, I’m a very much naked woman looking for something to preserve her modesty.”

Yanez nodded and made no comment. His eyes sought for the discarded frock and, once located, he came to inspect it. Marianna smiled as he lifted her dress. He measured the shoulders of the garment before comparing it to his forearm. Whistling to himself, Yanez crouched next to the bed and pulling a small trunk.

“Sandokan’s old clothes,” Yanez explained, pushing the trunk in her general direction. “Those might be a better fit.”

And, having done his best, Yanez left the cabin, leaving Marianna in a state of perplexity. That state didn’t last for long.

“Let's find out if it this food-for-moths is still useful…”

***

Sandokan heard the approaching projectile before the rest of his crew. It was obvious someone was sending a warning shot their way. The sprayed sea water a hundred of meters away from their bow.

“Ship to starboard!” the watchman announced rather late.

“English?”

“Dutch!”

Sandokan and Yanez have been certain that the Dutch would oppose a fierce resistance to their exodus. He didn't blame them, after the chaos they left behind in Labuan. Of course, they were expecting patrol ships.  

The watchman was describing the enemy, two bombards, and approximately sixty men. If fate demanded that they might pass over another ship to find freedom with the woman he loved, then so be it.

“Under full sail, Little Tigers!” Sandokan commanded before explaining the strategy to Giro-Batol, the Javanese.

They needed to be precise in their approach to fall on them like the plague and run away like a scalded cat. That wasn’t anything they haven’t done a thousand times in the last twelve years. His Tigers were still the finest pirate crew in the Southern Seas.

Yanez came into sight from the hatch. His hurried step tells to the world he had heard the shot. The way his cigar hung from his lips signaled he had picked up the smell of blood in the water. They consulted each other with the eyes.

“Fancy one last affair before quitting it forever?” Sandokan invited and extended his hand to grab Yanez by the neck.

“This is the last affair as much as this one is my last cigar, Little Brother,” Yanez replied, resting his forehead on Sandokan’s for a moment. “but lets us add another memory to amaze your future children with.”

“Prepare the assault, I’ll warn Marianna.”

They parted ways. Sandokan blessed again the day he let that peculiar Portuguese live. He could always rest on Yanez’s cold head and good sense.  

Sandokan went down the stairs. His mind began to think of the repercussions it might have to warn Marianna imminent combat. His brow began to furrow in a deep scowl. Sixty men were nothing to forty pirates, but… A string of misfortunes began to unravel before his eyes. By the time they reached the foot of the stairs, Sandokan was convinced that Marianna was too important to expose her to hazard.

The first thing he saw was his woman, the youthful Pearl of Labuan, half-naked among the chaos of his cabin.  

She was so young and defenseless…  

The image of a girl of sixteen trying to fit a shirt over her slight frame tipped his decision toward preserving her of all harm.

Sandokan couldn’t endure to lose her. He had already lost so many important persons in his life. The simple idea was making his knees weak and he never trembled in front of any danger.

This gamble was not affordable.

As silent as possible, Sandokan extended his hand and pulled the heavy wooden door into its place. It was a snug fit. The rusty key that had never blocked the entrance turned twice. Sandokan removed the key from its lock. Sandokan heard her shout, unable to understand what was happening. Something like regret troubled Sandokan’s mind, but he didn’t use the key in his hand. Instead, he extended his hand and found a stray nail to hang the key, in case he wasn’t able to return and free her.

Sandokan felt his heart heavy and he couldn’t help himself. For a moment, he rested his forehead on the hardwood and vowed to return.

***

The raising uproar on the deck saluted Sandokan. The Little Tigers banged their weapons against the planks. The prospect of a new battle was sharpening their fangs.

Yanez was busy by the starboard, rolling cartridges for his carbine. Usually, he had a good reserve of them. They have left the trade a couple of days ago and didn't bother to refill his supply. His fingers rolled the paper out of habit. He raised his head to see how the Little Tigers will receive their queen but Lady Marianna Guillonk didn’t grace the planks.

The Dutch patrol ship shoot another warning shot before the Tigers could feel snubbed. Sandokan tried to disregard it but his crew wouldn’t have any of it and put him down to safety. Begrudgingly, Sandokan turned the knot of his sash to his navel and started to check the load of his pistols. Practical sense, Yanez said to himself. He couldn't remember when the last time his Little Brother shot a pistol was.

“When will Marianna join us?” Yanez asked when he rolled the last cartridges.

“Never, if I have anything to say about the issue.” Sandokan’s tone was snappy, but there was something in his intonation that Yanez knew and dreaded.

“What have you done?”

“I kept her _safe_.” Sandokan took the powder horn and tried to load his pistol. His hand was shaking, but it was hard to tell if the cause was fear or anger.

“You locked her in in the cabin,” Yanez accused when he finished excluding Sandokan’s choices. The Portuguese wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel outraged or amused. “You better go down and bring her here.”

“I can’t let her out, Yanez!” Sandokan growled, spilling half of the black powder he meant to put in his pistol. “If a stray bullet hit her…”

“Little Brother.” Yanez took the weapon and the ammunition before Sandokan rendered the deck a fire hazard. “Everyone should pull their weight in your prahu, that’s your rule.”

“Not her!” Sandokan growled and sprang to his feet.

Yanez put away the powder and the ball. They were approaching fast to the enemy and, in all probability, they won’t miss the chance to down Sandokan.

“You won’t have her back!” Sandokan was shouting in Malay. He didn't care that the sailing ship was Dutch and not English. His knuckles were so white Yanez feared he would pull the board rail out its proper place. “She’s mine! MINE!”

“Come down, you raving madman!” Yanez yelled and pulled Sandokan’s shoulder’s back. “You will be of little use to her if you are dead!”

“I know no fear!” Sandokan shouted impervious to any logic. “Those men should be afraid of ME!”

“Bullets don’t care, Little Brother!”

“Down!” A high but commanding woman’s voice ran through the deck. All the pirates’ gazes converged on the point between the prahu’s masts.

Yanez and Sandokan turned around and their faces changed from surprise to horror. Marianna —hair whipping to the wind and sheer shirt daubed over her body by the sea gale—putting fire to a bombard. They both know that bombard was not included in the deck plan. Experience had taught them that a loose cannon on deck was a sure way to sink a ship. They both shouted a command to the Little Tigers, each one in a different language.

The smell of burnt powder was overpowering. The Little Tigers screamed in horror because they knew, by the smell of it, that she overloaded that bombard. Sandokan, since he was not in his right mind, sprang in the general direction of the midship line. Yanez could read his anxiety over Marianna’s safety in his face. The Portuguese tackled on Sandokan and managed to pin him down to the planks just in time. The bombard went off and all the crew shook with the tremor. The masts trembled when they absorbed the recoil of the shot.

The clamor of the shot was not followed by a rain of debris. Yanez turned around to look at the projectile trajectory. The perfect parabolic shot was visible by the smoke of the ball of rags on fire. Yanez had time to revel in the image of that flaming projectile landing squarely on the crosspiece. The shot showered the deck with a hot assortment of burning shrapnel. The Portuguese doubted he could set down such a perfect strike himself.

Yanez was so busy smiling that he didn’t notice when Sandokan regained his feet and ran to the girl. He was yelling all the way to her.

Yanez chose not to acknowledge the lovebird’s row. Someone with cool head needed to disentangle them from the battle and that one won’t be Sandokan. The sail was catching fire and the crew was bewildered and confused. This was the time to continue the attack.

“Fire, my tigers!” Yanez shouted as he stood. “Make them regret to stand in our way!”

Bloodthirsty screams drowned the lovers' quarrel. Yanez lit another cigarette as the cannons spewed fire on the unfortunate patrol ship.

What an amusing night!

Yanez gave Giro-Batol some indications. Once the ship was safe in Giro-Batol's hands, Yanez rushed to the Little Tigers who were piling up boarding axes, parangs, krises and another assortment of boarding weapons. The process was routine, so much that Sandokan didn’t spare a glance to it. Yanez rolled his eyes at the bickering couple and got ready to lead the assault as he had done so many times before.

The idea of danger couldn’t erase the smile from his face.

The sound of the metal colliding with the wood of the Dutch patrol ship traveled through the fighters on the prahu like thunder on a tempest cloud. The Little Tigers fell on the deck of the Dutch sailing ship like a dreadful rain, krises shone like lightning. When Yanez jumped to the deck enemy felt like Thundering Jove.

The Dutch were not ready for the assault.

Yanez, carbine over the shoulder and parang on the sash, jumped to the deck. He almost sprained his ankle when he landed on freshly spilled blood. The thought crossed his mind, leaving the hazardous life of the pirate sounded sensible. That pesky idea lasted a fleeting moment.

“…inside the cabin, I swear on the memory of my father!” Sandokan was thundering on his right. He was offhandedly ending the life of a Dutch soldier.

“Like you can!” Marianna retorted, her hand holding a small boarding ax. “I tore out the accursed door off its damned hinges!”

“You did what?”

Yanez rose from his spot, rather amused for the exchange. “Eh, lovebirds! Can you leave the billing and cooing for later?”

If they heard the irony, they did not consider worthy of a response. Both spared some dirty looks at Yanez before returning to their opponents. Sandokan kicked his opponent for it was a hindrance. Marianna was doing her best to get rid of a poor blonde recruit who was not sure if he was allowed to hit a girl.

“Eh, Marianna!” Yanez called out approaching her.

“Not now!”

“Yes. Now!”

Marianna darted his eyes to her husband’s friend. Her off-hand darted to Yanez’s waist and took off the pearl-handled pistol. Before Yanez could react, she shot the soldier at close range.

“What do you want?” Marianna asked, returning the unloaded pistol to its proper place in its owner’s waist.

“A clear path to the helm!” Yanez said, passing her his beloved Brown Bess. “So, cover me?”

“How many rounds?” Marianna exchanged her ax for the carbine with a wide smile.

“Fifteen shots.” Yanez took the ax after passing her the cartridge box. There were more than fifteen paper cartridges to feed old Brown Bess.

“Godspeed!”

Yanez got ready to make a desperate dash toward the sterncastle. Then he thought it better and shouted: “Little Brother!”

The love of a woman couldn't trump years of habit. Sandokan turned around at the sound of the call for assistance in time to see Yanez sprint by the starboard rail. Marianna pointed Yanez’s gun to the helm. With another shout, Sandokan called three of his Tigers to protect Marianna.

The first shoot downed the helmsman. Yanez almost wanted to curse himself for relying on Marianna. He was reaching the stairs after dodging twenty strikes. Three solid Dutchmen were in front of him and those wouldn’t be so easy to tackle. A quick peek over his shoulder let him know Sandokan was downing the twenty poor sods Yanez decided to sidestep.

The distance was running short and no sign of those bullets. Yanez cursed. The man on the top of the stairs fell down and his weigh took down the other two. Yanez saw his chance and leaped forward. His foot stepped on the fallen man and he rolled over the sterncastle deck. A Native recruit was ready to skew him with his regulation sword. Long years of fighting for his life made Yanez pull his pistol and pulled the trigger.

The sound of flint hammering against metal reminded him Marianna had discharged his pistol earlier. If Sandokan could understand the curse that left his lips, his life would be in peril.

Marianna downed his attacker with a precise headshot. Yanez could breathe again, but he will reserve the action for the time when they are all safe.

By the time he got to his feet, his curved knife was in his hand without him recalling how it got there. Marianna delivered another shot. The soldier in the farthest corner of the castle fell like struck by lightning. Yanez wedged his knife into the soldier he was closer to. Sandokan roared and tossed a spare boarding ax to the remaining one.  

The sterncastle was theirs. In Yanez’s head, the battle was already won.

“What are you doing?” Sandokan demanded when he reached the castle.

“Extricating our prahu from this senseless battle,” Yanez replied, trying to move the tiller. “What does it looks like?”

Sandokan approached and lend a hand and his weigh to move the rudder. They both pushed and noticed how difficult it was and how stiff the chain moved. That patrol boat that lacked a good fairing.

“Tiller leeward!” Yanez groaned, appalled because the Dutch Navy had this patrol ship in such a bad repair.

“You are a prodigy!” Sandokan finally comprehended the plan.

Yanez’s hand faltered on the rudder. Flattery had that effect on him. Nonetheless, this was the most inconvenient time to deal compliments in such a liberal fashion.

The rudder finally moved and the ominous sound of wood creaking stopped the battle. The heavy prahu pushed against the patrol ship, forcing its pass out of sheer inertia and weight.

Sandokan took out his golden whistle and signaled Giro-Batol to unfurl all the sails. The strong wind-gyve would help the bold maneuver.

“Retreat!” Yanez called before picking up the spare loaded pistols to cover their retreat. “Go and put Marianna on the prahu.”

“I won’t let you here!”

“I’m used to hasty retreats; she’s not!”

Sandokan looked at Yanez and then to Marianna who was too busy reloading the carbine. The scowl on his face was so deep that Yanez feared for the stability of the headpiece on the top of his head.

“Pisangu!”

The Malay was too busy keeping Marianna’s flank but turned his head toward his Captain.

“Carry Marianna over the prahu!” Sandokan commanded and stood his place by Yanez. He didn't spare a moment to gaze at Pisangu’s betel stained smile. He knew he will be obeyed. “If she disagrees, carry her by force!”

“You are going to kill us both, Little Brother!” Yanez said and shot a fire to the compact cluster of Dutch who were regrouping. A cartridge was hanging from his lips to supply the lack of a much-needed cigarette.

“I have loved to madness, Yanez,” Sandokan replied, kicking one of the sailors out of the way, “my life is full.”

Yanez was a bit overwhelmed to reply with a witty remark. Each shot fired was a step back to safety and a thud in the solid planks of the patrol ship. The prahu was pushing his way forward, sending the patrol ship to the no-sail zone.

“No Tiger left behind!” Sandokan ordered, picking up a wounded Malay pirate from the planks.

His voice resounded in the vessel. The crew was already carrying the wounded and passing them over the rail to their comrades. Sandokan turned around to help the wounded man in his arms and noticed Marianna. She was still in her spot, consuming all the cartridges on Yanez’s box.

“Marianna!”

“Get in the prahu!” Marianna replied, blowing a stubborn lock of her golden hair. There was burnt black powder over the bridge of her nose and her shirt dripped with blood.

“You both retreat, NOW!” Yanez yelled over the noise of Marianna’s shot. “I have not come all this way to see you die, by Jove!”

Sandokan knew Yanez was right. Time and reinforcement were dwindling with each heartbeat. He passed his arm around Marianna’s waist and picked her up against his shoulder while she was reloading. Yanez saw how Sandokan leaped to the prahu’s deck. As he prepared to jump to safety, he felt the hit against his left side and he lost all drive when his knees buckled. This was not the first time he felt burning lead kiss.

Marianna was returned to her vessel cursing like a drunken English soldier. She shouted an expletive and aimed for the last time, missing Yanez’s brim by an inch and downing a Javanese recruit.

“I was not ready to go!” Marianna was shouting to Sandokan as soon as her feet were on the prahu.

“Why didn’t you move her, Pisangu?” Sandokan screamed at the terrified Malay who was looking at the new queen with utter horror in the face.

The fortunate shot allowed him to reload and Yanez realized he was ready to sell his skin dearly. He darted a last gaze at the prahu and shouted: “Oars!”

The Tigers under deck replied to the order of their commander. Maybe they believed the White Tiger was on board. They obeyed out of habit, but they pushed the prahu away from the patrol ship with all their might. The shock stopped the row on board and Sandokan turned around to consult Yanez. For the first time, he noticed his friend was not by his side.

The whole crew let out a horrified gasp as if the whole crew were a single man. Yanez was still in the enemy ship and the prahu was diverting its course too fast. The crew tried everything in their power to stop the prahu, but not even the raised oars or the sails they tried to furl could stop the trajectory of the swift vessel.

Yanez, once he spent the available shots, was fighting his way toward the bow, parang in hand. He never turned his eyes toward the fleeting prahu.

Sandokan roared his desperation and left Marianna on the starboard before rushing toward the boom crutch. In his way, he put his right middle finger inside his mouth and he made a speaker with his left hand. Sandokan blew one a shrill whistle, followed by five short ones, each of them different. The message crossed over the space between the ships and Yanez turned his face to the prahu.

In no time the ships lost touch and the patrol ship became at a halt. Marianna appeared at the poop and hurled something at the becalmed patrol ship.

“Grenade!” She shrieked her warning. Her hair was a golden mane speckled with blood flying her gunpowder stained face.

The patrol ship’s crew ran for cover when the heavy object thuds on the deck. Seeing that this was his opportunity, Yanez turned around and froze in his place in horror. He finally noticed how far away the prahu was.

Sandokan repeated his signal, a hand clutching desperately the last hold of the prahu. The whistles conveyed a more urgent tone.

Yanez had little time to think. Caught between the grenade and the impossible bound, the Portuguese took a short run-up. He jumped off the patrol ship in time to avoid the brunt of the burning rain of shrapnel.

***

Marianna was rather rattled still. She saw Sandokan plummet down from the transom stern in a vain attempt to clasp the Portuguese hand in front of enemy fire. How did he manage to fell by the rudder without breaking his neck? By this point, Marianna knew some mysteries were not meant to be revealed. Half a dozen of pirates dived after their leaders and Sandokan lacked not a hand to bring the lost sheep to the fold.

Now all the crew was accounted for. The Dutch were shouting and shooting to the prahu, but they were the least of their problems. The Little Tigers were dripping sea water over their wounded and insensible comrade.

“I was willing to lose everything, Marianna,” Sandokan was saying almost to himself. He was dripping water on the deck like the others. “I would have sacrificed even him to have you and he knew it...”

That water was washing away the traces of red bright blood on the planks.

 Marianna saw how pale Sandokan was. The sandy shade was so different to the usually healthy cooper undertone of his skin. It cannot be a trick of the faint lamps on the deck. She saw her husband slumped on the rail and she couldn’t blame him. She was shaking too. Giro-Batol was busy, stripping Yanez’s drenched clothes to find the wounds in his body.

There was too much blood on the wood.

“Knowing it did not prevent him to spend countless dangers to bring us together.”

“I know.” Marianna was not in the mood to hear the praises to the Portuguese. She knew how praiseworthy this particular friend was for the fierce man she had chosen for a husband.

Marianna touched Sandokan and he collapsed on deck. Marianna, feeling that he needed something to hold on, sat by his side and let him hug her.

“This is where I draw my line, Marianna: I’ll surrender the lot to your feet. The whole world and all its riches, everything but Yanez.”

“I wasn’t asking for it,” she replied in hushed tones. She knew, even before Sandokan crashed into her life, that Yanez was a great part of the bundle. “And you won’t part with him now.”

They need to talk about his unfounded suspicions, but this was not the moment. Not when he was about to break down in tears.

The crew started to blew off the lamps; this was not the time to draw attention to them.

***

“What about the whistle?”  

Marianna asked when they entered the main room. She devoted her time to collect the curtains and let the fresh air go into the small house. The batik frock on her body suited her in the most gracious manner.

“That’s his story,” Sandokan replied. He sported a soft cotton shirt and blinding white trousers. A wide embroidered sash —deep crimson, of course— covered all the way down to his knees. He stopped before he tugged the lace curtains of the bed. “You must ask him about it someday.”

Java’s early sun bathed the sleeping man. Yanez was not yet out of danger, but his health was improving every day. This morning he had mustered enough strength to turn to his good side in his sleep.

“He will talk your ears off,” Sandokan predicted. With care, he lifted the Indian fine cotton fabric to inspect the wound, “once when he wakes up.”

“I can hardly wait.” Marianna examined the wound too. She disregarded once again the many admonitions Sandokan had made about the topic. “It’s not tender, is it?”

“It’s still warm, but it’s not oozing anymore.”

The wound in Yanez’s side was in bad shape. The rest of the many cuts had healed between the prahu and the new plantation. The local healing woman urged them to find a place where the wounded man could rest. She augured he would sleep until he was ready to return to life.

Sandokan and Marianna took her words in earnest.

Yanez’s little house was the first thing Sandokan and Marianna built on their new land. They had great plans for the rest of the acreage over which they had dominion. There will be time for it. For the time being, they have been enjoying hospitality at his friend’s house.

None of them doubted that Yanez would open his doors to them, in Java or anywhere in the world. At the same time, they were aware of their status of guests. There was a strict “no row” rule in sight of the house. Sandokan was adamant and Marianna, for once, agreed without protest.

Their routine was the same every morning when they enter the main room to air it out. They minded any of Yanez’s needs, but he wanted little these days. Marianna suspected that was the reason behind his constant vigilance of the wound. The wound was tangible and obvious, something he could fight one way or another.

“Patience,” Marianna urged, her hand caressed Sandokan’s scarred knuckles.

 Sandokan despaired often but today he just sighed aloud. Marianna had learned that fighting was the only thing her husband could do in relative silence.

“Good luck with that, girl.”

Yanez’s voice sounded groggy, so different of his usual ironic tone, but it was unmistakably his. Sandokan pounced on the bed to get a closer look. It was not the first time, Yanez had spoken, but the fever has puts words in his mouth.

“Too close,” Yanez complained. His eyes were straining to focus on that familiar face. “Where are we?”

Those words were a challenge. Sandokan used his big hand to scoop Yanez’s head and made their foreheads touch. He was grinning wide. They finally locked eyes and a faint smile appeared on the Portuguese’s lips. Yanez convinced Marianna that he was among the quick again.

“Kalideres. Java.” Sandokan kept his eyes fixed on Yanez’s but his smile disappeared. “You are burning.”

“Thirsty.”

Sandokan received the faint word as if it was a royal command. He leaped out the bed and crossed the main room with long strides, long hair waving like the red flag over his mast. His whole bearing showed determination and purpose. It was the same as if he was on the deck of his ship before the assault started. Marianna heard his heavy steps on the veranda stair. Those steps changed direction and speed without a warning. Sandokan returned with scurried pace and with a shocked face. With both hands in the doorjambs, Sandokan peered into the main room.

A bit late, Sandokan had noticed that he took action without sparing a thought for his wife’s agreement.

“Hurry along!” Marianna laughed and shooed him mockingly with both hands. “Bring him a bunch of coconuts, will you? He’s thirsty!”

Yanez scoffed from his bed; even in his feverish state, he could find humor in the situation. Marianna sat on the bed, extended her hand and stroked Yanez’s forehead. Sandokan was right, Yanez was burning up but he was not breaking a sweat.

“Marianna,” Yanez said with closed eyes, “Thank you for hurling that grenade.”

“It did you awfully good, I can see.”

“You saved my life.”

“Next time heed your own orders,” Marianna said. She regretted those words the moment they tumbled off her mouth.

There will never be another time. Pirate life was over in Marianna’s name and they were still trying to get used to the idea. Marianna fluffed a pillow and help Yanez to sit in the bed.

“Little sister,” Yanez called Marianna her sister for the first time without any irony. “I wasn’t planning on this, but I suppose I must ask you for shelter under your roof.”

“This is your home, Big Brother,” Marianna replied with a smile. “It will be yours as long as you want it to be.”

Sandokan returned with a couple of wet, young coconuts. He had already peeled away part of the husk to uncover the eyes. Yanez waited, for he had seen Sandokan do the trick so many times before. Marianna looked with interest as Sandokan sat cross-legged, a dish on his lap. Sandokan dug his thumbs on the coconut eyes. The hard shell cracked under the pressure of his fingers. Sandokan didn't show any effort. Marianna was elated but Yanez stifled an exaggerated yawn.

Sandokan passed Marianna one half of the coconut. The tender pulp was ready to be picked up with bare fingers. He passed the dish to Yanez who took it up with both hands. The coconut water lapped the sides of the dish. Marianna and Sandokan shared a worried look, they made no comment.

In silence, they split a coconut and started their new life together.

ed on the Portuguese’s lips. Marianna was convinced that Yanez was among the quick again.

“Kalideres. Java.” Sandokan kept his eyes fixed on Yanez’s but his smile disappeared. “You are burning.”

“Thirsty.”

Sandokan received the faint word as if it was a royal command. He leapt out the bed and crossed the main room with long strides, long hair waving like the red flag over his mast. His whole bearing showed determination and purpose, just as it showed on the plank of his ship before the assault started. Marianna heard his heavy steps on the veranda stair before they changed to a hurry, scurried pace as he returned to the house. With a shocked face and both hands in the doorjambs, Sandokan peered into the main room.

Sandokan had noticed, belatedly, that he took action without sparing a thought for his wife’s agreement.

“Hurry along!” Marianna laughed heartily and shooed him mockingly with both hands, “Bring him a bunch of coconuts, will you? He’s thirsty!”

Yanez scoffed from his bed; even in his feverish state he could find humor in the situation. Marianna sat on the bed, extended her hand and stroked Yanez’s forehead. Sandokan was right, Yanez was burning up but he was not breaking a sweat.

“Marianna,” Yanez said with closed eyes, “Thank you for hurling that grenade.”

“It did you awfully good, I can see.”

“You saved my life.”

“Next time heed your own orders,” Marianna said and she regretted those words the moment they tumbled off her mouth.

There will never be another time. Pirate life was over in Marianna’s name and they were still trying to get used to the idea. Marianna fluffed a pillow and help Yanez to sit in the bed.

“Little sister,” Yanez called Marianna her sister for the first time without any irony. “I wasn’t planning on this, but I suppose I must ask you for shelter under your roof.”

“This is your home, Big Brother,” Marianna replied with a smile. “It will be yours as long as you want it to be.”

Sandokan returned with a couple of wet, young coconuts. He had already peeled part of the husk to uncover the eyes. Yanez waited, for he had seen Sandokan do the trick so many times before. Marianna looked with interest as Sandokan sat cross-legged, a dish on his lap. Sandokan dug his thumbs on the coconut eyes; the hard shell was cracked without any apparent effort on his part. Marianna was elated but Yanez derisively stifled an exaggerated yawn.

Sandokan passed Marianna one half of the coconut, the tender pulp was ready to be picked with bare fingers; the dish was passed to Yanez who picked it up with both hands. The coconut water lapped the sides of the dish and, although Marianna and Sandokan shared a worried look, they made no comment.

In silence, they split a coconut and started their new life together.

**Author's Note:**

> levardelsole: It was November 1st, 2014 when I tell you of this story; you said “And hey please do! I love fanfics!”. 
> 
> I’m sorry it took me so long to write it.


End file.
